


Destructive Interference

by mumbled_jumbles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen, Hermione is a Good Friend, M/M, More thought than plot, Ron needs a hug, Ron-centric, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-07-28 00:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16230701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumbled_jumbles/pseuds/mumbled_jumbles
Summary: It's only natural for Ron to be upset that Harry is fucking a bloody ferret. He only wants the best for his best mate—it's not like he's in love with the lad, for Merlin's sake!Except, well...maybe he is.A short drabble in which Ron struggles with feelings of longing, loathing, and betrayal after he discovers 'Drarry'; Hermione is a good friend; and Harry is...still Harry, the daft twat.





	Destructive Interference

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and canon events will be referenced. However, non-canon events as well as much of the insight and explanation are mine. Please review/comment! Whether your feedback is positive or constructive it will be greatly appreciated.  
> -Rose

At some point, the tension between Draco and Harry manifests itself into something sexual in nature. When, four months into his sixth year term, Ron discovers their “little fling” (it’s one of the rare occasions during which he actually patrols Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, like he’s supposed too), he is  ~~heartbroken~~  outraged. 

 

First he sends a hex at Malfoy, which is promptly blocked by Harry. 

 

Then, he abandons his wand completely, in favor of breaking Harry’s nose (and his glasses by association), and screaming all the wrong questions.

 

“How  _could_  you! _”_ Ron screams, voice cracking pathetically. His vision is as red as his ears, but he still catches the look of guilt that passes over Harry's features and Malfoy's ugly grimace.

 

He also catches how they briefly exchange glances, how they shuffle slightly closer together and their expressions steel into one more unapologetic, less panicked, as if they've previously discussed what to do in the case of an encounter like this. He feels sick. Harry has made his insides churn for a while now, but this is the most painful churning yet, like his heart's just been shattered and the jagged pieces are cruelly tearing his insides apart.

 

Ron wants to ask, "How long has this been going on?"

 

He wants to ask, “Why him?”

 

Because Ron has never thought he would be  _enough_  for The Boy Who Lived, but he has tried a lot harder than Draco—bloody —Malfoy. Ron, after all, was Harry’s first friend. He has rescued Harry from his terrible Muggle relatives, has fought with him, nearly died with him, has given him  ~~his~~   ~~everything~~  positive feedback along the entire way. 

 

Ron wants to ask, “Why him and not me?” 

 

He doesn’t. He’s afraid of the answer.

 

Then he cries.

 

They aren’t big, ugly sobs. On the contrary, they are, for the most part, silent. Neither of the star-crossed lovebirds notice though. Bloody Harry can hardly see Ron without his glasses and bloody Malfoy can hardly see Ron because he’s too busy tending to bloody Harry’s bloody face. Ron stares at the pair for another painful moment, then stalks away.

 

He and Harry don’t speak for three weeks after that encounter. It's the longest they’ve gone without speaking for nearly half a decade.

 

* * *

 

Harry, of course, confides in Hermione about everything.

 

The first few weeks, she sits with Ron during meals, at a different table than usual. Between classes, too, under trees around the lake, or in abandoned classrooms. Their fellow Gryffindors ask where they keep running off to, all winks and raised eyebrows. “Prefect stuff,” Ron and Hermione murmur in unison, and don’t say anything else of the topic. Their classmates don’t  _believe_ them, as is evident by their playful tirades of "suuure"and "uh-huh",but at least they don’t  _suspect_.

 

After witnessing Ron nearly have a breakdown after he accidentally brushes past Harry in the corridor, on the way to Potions, Hermione helps devise a plan to nick the Maurader’s Map from Harry’s trunk. It turns out that Ron probably doesn’t need the assistance. The trunk is unlocked, and the map sits, neatly, on top of a photo of Sirius and some of Harry’s other precious belongings. It’s almost deliberate, as if Harry knows they don’t want to be found.

 

Malfoy doesn't bother to bother them.  ( _Which I've always wanted_ , Ron thinks, bitterly.) Without the taunts, without a common enemy, without the _togetherness_ of the trio, it's a quiet sort of hell. Ron does all of his History of Magic homework, instead of copying it. In the Great Hall, Hermione doesn’t scold Ron for shoveling food into his mouth at an almost inhuman rate. Rather, she imitates him, filling her plate over and over, swallowing treacle tart with all of the unspoken questions. 

 

(One day, years later, while they are sitting under a vaguely familiar large tree, staring at the lake, Hermione abruptly confides to him, “You know, it wasn't because I was hungry...” 

 

She doesn't mention the subject. She's smart girl—no, woman now and knows she doesn't need to.

 

Ron turns to look her in the eye. “I know.” There will always be unspoken volumes _._ ) 

 

If he cranes his head, Ron can see a familiar head of black hair and a melancholy face. Harry’s glasses are fixed, as is his nose. That’s about it. The boy looks distraught and is pointedly not looking in Ron’s direction. He hurts and is hurting. Had Ron ever paid attention in Muggle Studies, he might say to himself, _karma_. He never has paid attention, though. And he can only say to himself,  _fuck fuck fuck fuck I'm broken broken broken broken._

"Well, _fuck_ that ferret-fucking traitor _,"_ Ron says out loud. The bastard is getting what he deserves. He’s lucky, even. Ron could hate him right now. Ron  _wants_ to hate him right now.

 

But Ron’s just lost his best mate to his worst enemy, and his brain is mush from hours of furiously scribbling History of Magic homework, and his neck is starting to cramp from turning towards said (ex) best mate, and  _he can’t hate anyone except for himself._

 


End file.
